The Winter War

Grant’s eyes instinctively shot open and he immediately cursed the light. As had become his new normal, he just laid there until he had the will to pull himself up and begin his day. It had been nine months now since he had decided to leave his apartment with Santa or Nicholas as he preferred to be called. It had been eleven since Elsie, all in all it had been the longest year of his life. After about twenty minutes, Grant finally took a deep breath and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up and walked to the bathroom, his foot connected with an empty bottle. Grant looked around the room and saw several empty bottles. This had quickly become his new normal, Grant would drink until he blacked out, then he’d wake up the next day hating himself, just to repeat the process.

This house that Nicholas had provided was interesting. It seemed to be magical in nature, everything he could ever want was provided for him in endless abundance. If he had been in better spirits this would have been a great place to vacation, but as he was now? It only helped him fall into his vices. Grant sidled into the bathroom and saw his sallow reflection in the mirror. In truth, Grant hated himself, more so now than ever before. As he looked at himself burning with pity and shame, Grant found himself asking aloud

“What’s even the point of it all anymore?” He then got in the shower and let the cold-water shock him out of his growing hangover.

After his shower, Grant got dressed and grabbed a bottle of wine. He then headed for the balcony of the little house and stared at the horizon. The sun bathed everything in a brilliant light that in any other circumstance would have been beautiful enough to bring one to tears, but for grant it had all seemed to lose its luster. It was as though some unknowable entity had slowly sucked all the color out of the world for him. The only time Grant felt anything was when he drank, and then all he felt was a deep self-loathing. Then after he drank, he just felt a void. This was the circle of misery that Grant had found himself in these past months. He moved out to the veranda of the cottage hoping that the rising sun would make him feel something. As the light washed over him Grant’s eyes were drawn to a typewriter that Nicholas had given him. It was Grant’s hope that with the time he had been given he’d be able to sit down and perhaps write through his emotions. Instead for several months now, Grant had terrible writer’s block and all the typewriter did was mock him, Grant felt the darkness roiling up in him, taunting him.

“Look at you, you can barely write a sentence. Is it any wonder why Elsie left you?”

“No, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Get out of my head.”

“Oh Grant, of course I know. I know you better than you claim to know yourself. I’ve been with you from the start.”

“I’m not listening.”

“Yes you are, you’re always listening. That’s what makes you so damn easy. I’ve seen your future, Grant.”

“Shut up.”

“You accomplish everything you want Grant, but you’re unhappy in you gilded palace. And you die alone, alone accept for me that is.”

“SHUT UP!” Screamed Grant picking up the typewriter and flinging it across the veranda with a strength he didn’t know he had.

He was alone now, the voice in his head had left him alone, for now at least. He walked back to his drink and lifted it to his lips with shaking hands. As he drank, he heard a powerful galloping heading towards the cottage. Grant looked out from the balcony to see who it was, though he already had a suspicion about who it could be.

Nicholas and Blitzen crested the hill overlooking Grant’s cottage, it wasn’t much but it had been Nicholas’ hope that here in these woods Grant would be able to break his depression. Maybe, Nicholas thought, maybe if he could help Grant, it would cure his own depression. There had been a time when Nicholas had loved riding through these woods, with Asfrid and her beloved Dancer. But now since she had been gone? Nothing was the same. Nicholas gently urged Blitzen forward and they gently ambled down to Grant’s home

Grant wasn’t up to company but he had also been alone in that cottage for nine months, he was constantly drinking and wallowing in pain and misery. Maybe seeing Nicholas would lift his spirits a bit. He finished his drink and headed down to meet the man. As Grant walked out the door he was taken aback by both Nicholas and his mount, it was the biggest deer he’d ever seen and Nicholas was powerfully built in passing he might have looked like the stereotypical jolly fat man but as Grant looked closer, he saw the powerful muscles barely concealed by Nicholas’ girth. He was built like a power lifter and he stood almost seven feet tall, he towered over Grant. And though he found it difficult to admit Grant felt more than a little inadequate when he regarded his physique next to Nicholas’.

“Good morning, Grant!” Nicholas roared grabbing Grant in a tight bearhug

“Hullo Nicholas, what brings you here today?”

“Well, it’s been several months since I’ve seen you. I wanted to ask you to travel with me today. I figured some companionship would do us both some good.”

“I think you might be right. I’ll travel with you. Should I bring anything?”

“The cottage should give you all that you need.”

Grant excused himself and walked back into the cottage. On the table sat a change of clothes and two large saddlebags filled with various supplies for the upcoming journey.

“This place is really amazing.” Grant said to himself before changing and heading back outside.

“Ah Grant, you look fantastic, just sling your saddlebags up on Blitzen then we can head out on the trail.”

“Wait, Blitzen? Like from the song?”

“The very same. He leads the sleigh, and he’s my personal mount during down months.”

“What kind of deer is this? I’ve never seen one so large.”

“They’re a species called the Irish Elk, they’re extinct where you’re from but they thrive in these woods. They aren’t the only things that thrive here, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never you mind, just stay on the path and you’ll be fine.”

“What is our plan today?”

“There’s a herd of elk up the mountain a ways, I wanted to take you there so we can get you a mount of your own.”

After this exchange the two men were silent as they trekked through the forest, silent that is except for Grant stumbling his way through trying to keep up with Nicholas. Watching Nicholas stalk through the forest again made Grant feel a manner of inadequacy.  For all his life, Grant had primarily lived in the city but somehow, he thought that he should have been better at this. Grant was lost in his thoughts when he spotted a brilliant white stag, it was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. Grant was compelled to follow it. He had to touch it, to make it his. As far as Grant was concerned this forest now belonged to both him and the stag, nothing else mattered. The stag and Grant locked eyes and then the creature bolted, clearly not thinking Grant clumsily sprinted after it.

Nicholas heard the commotion behind him, but he didn’t think much of it, Grant had been stumbling over himself all afternoon.

“Just a few more feet, Grant. There’s an excellent clearing where we can stop for lunch.”

When Grant didn’t respond, Nicholas felt a tinge of worry. He tried to retrace their steps, luckily since Grant had been stumbling around it had been easy to pick up his trail. As Nicholas followed Grant’s tracks his worry gave way to abject terror as he realized where Grant was being led. He thought back to the night when Asfrid didn’t come back and realized what it was time to do.

“Blitzen, back to the house. It dies tonight.”

As grant blindly trapsed after the stag he paid little heed to his surroundings. If he did, maybe he would have noticed how the thick and voluminous trees gradually gave way to misshapen claws that seemed to jut out of the ground threatening to pull in anybody who dared venture too close to their branches. Where once Grant’s feet fount purchase on delicate snow or on leaves he now found himself mired in a swamp, still he cared little he had to catch the stag. Maybe he thought to himself, maybe if he caught that stag, he’d feel something other than shame, other than regret, maybe in catching the stag, Grant would be able to feel pride in himself again. Grant could say that he hoped for such things, but even the idea of hope was a distant memory to him. Grant shook his head, cursing himself for losing his focus, he had to catch the stag. The muck of the swamp enveloped Grant, it rose to his waist but he continued forward driven to catch the stag. He was so focused that Grant didn’t notice how the tree branches slowly encroached as to reach out and strangle him. The Stag stood on the far shore watching plaintively as Grant dragged his way towards it. As Grant moved forward, he lost his footing and slipped deeper into the swamp. He tried to pull himself up but it proved to be impossible it was as though the mire had a mind of it’s own as it pulled him under. The last thing Grant saw as he was swallowed by the blackness of the swamp was The Stag watching. Then he saw nothing.

Nicholas rode Blitzen hard as they crashed through the forest, the night he lost Asfrid constantly played in his head repeatedly, he couldn’t lose Grant the way he lost her. As he and his mount broke the tree line, an ominous chill sat on the air. Nicholas dismounted Blitzen and headed for his workshop. It was still early in the year so now it was quiet and it was dark, perfect for what Nicholas had planned. He walked through the workshop and thought of happier times when Asfrid was here. Even in the off seasons when she was here Asfrid radiated joy. Nicholas missed her terribly. Nicholas strode into his office overlooking the factory floor, he walked over to the fireplace, and pressed a hidden switch. The structure groaned with protest as it slid out of the way revealing a staircase. Nicholas took a deep breath and began to descend. He had long dreaded this day, but he knew it needed to happen.

Grant sat up and immediately he felt wrong. When he left to chase the stag, this forest felt as though it was teeming with life, but now Grant didn’t feel anything, he didn’t hear anything, it was as though he had walked into a void. All there was, was the faint scent of rot on the air. Grant pulled himself up from the mire and tried to find a landmark so he could attempt to make his way back to Nicholas. But there was nothing, Grant felt alone. It was the same painful loneliness that he felt when he tried to sleep at night.

“Grant?”

Grant’s ears perked up, the voice sounded familiar but it sounded wrong, it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Grant looked around for the source, but there was nothing. Nothing but the ever-present smell of rot on the air. Grant started to gag as it grew stronger, the swamp around him began to roil and bubble furiously, and suddenly a monstrous hand burst through the black water. The scent of rot and death somehow grew even stronger and Grant couldn’t help but to vomit. As Grant composed himself the creature rose to its full height, it stood before Grant. It was a sickly green, covered in warped and mottled skin, it bore a gash across its midsection that barely contained its putrid intestines. It seemed to radiate a miasma that killed anything that it touched. Grant was so enthralled by the atrocity exhibition that he didn’t notice the gigantic log that it was using as a club or that it was now careening towards him. When he did notice it, Grant wasn’t exactly eager to move. An ugly part of himself though that maybe this would be easier, he was too much of a coward to kill himself. But maybe if he let himself die the pain would cease. Grant had resigned himself; he was ready to embrace oblivion. But it never came.

Nicholas made a strafing run in his war sled, throwing firebombs at the wendigo as he did so. It roared with indignation as it sent tendrils of rot towards him. Nicholas knew that it would be dangerous to keep Blitzen here so he grabbed what weapons he needed and prepared to face the creature head on. As he descended, Nicholas thought about the last time he had battled the wendigo, they had fought for three days when it took Asfrid and no matter how many pieces Nicholas took, no matter how many rivers of the creatures accursed blood he spilled it still came back, taunting him. He would just need to be more thorough in purging the rot this time. Nicholas bought slammed his axe into the creature’s head with such force that it sent shockwaves through the entire forest. A torrent of vile black blood sprayed all over Nicholas and he felt invigorated. Nicholas dismounted the beast and landed at Grant’s feet. As it recovered it regarded the two men and roared

“Yes its me! As soon as you crawled out of your pit you should have known that I’d be here to send you back in pieces!” Nicholas bellowed back defiantly

The Wendigo didn’t attack them immediately instead it just waited something else slowly rose out of the marsh. And Nicholas was horrified at what he saw

“Aw, what’s the matter, Nicholas? Are you not happy to see me?” Asked a raspy voice

“Asfrid? No, not like this.”

“What? Would you prefer I stayed gone? You surely didn’t try very hard to find me, thisss is the reward you richly earned. Asfrid hissed

“I scoured this forest for days looking for you, I mourned you for months after that, I still mourn you now. I love you, Asfrid.”

“Love? Look me in the eyes, Nicholas, this is the prize that your love got me. Your love is no longer enough. I require your life. And I’ll destroy all that you hold dear until you beg me to make you one of my pets. And then when you’ve lost everything, that’s when I’ll kill you, when I’ll invite every exquisite torture upon your flesh that I have suffered.”

“Asfrid, I, I’m sorry. Come back with me, let me help you.”

“Look at me, how could you possibly help me? Go now, get out of my forest.”

Before he could protest any further, Nicholas found himself forcibly teleported back to the edge of the forest, with a bewildered Grant in tow. Before his young friend could say anything. Nicholas turned wordlessly and headed back towards his home. He didn’t know what to say to Grant, and he had more on his mind, like a way to safe his wife. There had to be a way.

Grant watched as Nicholas wandered off, there was clearly much for them to discuss, but this clearly wasn’t the time. Brushing himself off Grant walked into his cabin, he needed about seven showers and a stiff drink. As the hot water beat on him, Grant thought about the things he has seen today. Seeing the pain on Nicholas’ face stirred something in him. For the first time since they had begun their friendship Grant didn’t see Santa Claus the mythological figure, but the man underneath it all. He saw himself. It was jarring, it was terrifying. Grant didn’t know what to do next, so he’d go to his default strategy and drink until he was numb or blacked out at least. As he left the shower, Grant felt like something was off. The scent of rot was back on the air. Then he heard that voice and Grant’s eyes widened in horror

“You didn’t think it’d be that simple did you Grant? Nicholas left you, just like he left me. You’re mine now. I’m going to rend you asunder, and you’ll beg me for the pleasure. You have a choice, my dear either way you’re mine. You can come with me, and experience the exquisite pain of your own accord or I can let you be my pet’s plaything for a few centuries until you’re more agreeable. What do you choose?”

For Grant, choosing the pain was easy. In fact the only choice that had ever been easier, was when he first told Elsie he loved her. In his mind no pain could ever feel worse than losing her. And if there was? At the very least he’d feel something again.